Chapter 4
“Imperiled Sanctuaries”
Adam and Drusilla were alone together. The woman asked the man, “As king of this world, what do you do when you are not waging war?”
“I tour the planet and greet my subjects. They feed me, sing for me and dance for me. They ask me weird questions and I answer as best I can.”
“Weird questions?”
The man explained, “The Oracle tells everyone that I ‘see more’ than I ‘behold’ and am ‘wiser’ than my knowledge. She claims my humanity and ‘pure heart’ are sacred.”
“She claims you are pure of heart?”
Adam shrugged, “I just do the best I can and hope for the best.”
Drusilla smiled. The man smiled back. “Adam, you are not Tellurian. Where are you originally from?”
“A country called ‘America’ on a planet called ‘Earth’.”
“Earth?”
“Yeah. You’ve heard of it?”
“We hear many claims of worlds being the ‘Earth’ of legend. No such claim has ever been verified.”
“Well, I came from a planet we call ‘Earth’ whether it’s the real Earth or not.”
The woman pressed, “What is your planet of origin like?”
The man answered, “Everybody’s human. Most of our world is poor, primitive and dangerous. The better parts are prosperous, advanced and relatively safe. America is our entire world as one nation.”
Drusilla mentioned, “My world has been one nation for centuries. Its many colony worlds are also part of that nation.”
“Good for you.”
“My sisterhood is the new nation. The colonies are what remain of the old.”
“Your homeworld is the planet Golgoth,” Adam knew. He asked the Concubine, “What’s it like?”
“Everyone is a sister. Everything is everyone’s. All that we do we do together.”
“You’re not bored and lonely being all alike?”
The clone scowled at the man, claiming, “We understand each other because we have everything in common. We remember the bygone age of population diversity. We remember everyone being alone in a crowd… even among their friends. Our lives as the Many of One are better than those of the lonely and contentious many.”
“Sorry: I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Drusilla continued, “Outsiders rarely consider us to be real people. They dismiss us as if clones are devoid of thoughts and feelings. Yes, we are cloned from one woman and endowed with her memories. What of it? Are identical twins, triplets or quadruplets less human than other humans? Are children not taught from the memories of those before them? The bigotry of outsiders reminds us to find our strength in our Many of One.”
The man realized, “You’re very proud of your selfless nation of sisters.”
“We are devoted,” the Concubine corrected.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“Virgin Soldiers,” Adam liked the name. The idea itself was so wholesome yet militant and alluring. “Clones,” he considered: the man fancied identical twins, triplets and quadruplets… so why not? Those young, firm, identical bodies were so sexy in their “space swimsuit” uniforms. “Wow!” Adam was surprised: How could he be suddenly so attracted to women who tried so hard to kill him? Was he a masochist? Adam imagined Drusilla spanking him… but cringed at the idea.
“Drusilla,” the man stared at the Virgin Soldier. This one was the best of all of them… he supposed. Then again, he could only distinguish her from the others by her white cloak.
The clone woman stared at the man from under her cowl. She enquired, “What?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“You girls all have the same genes and memories.”
The Concubine corrected, “We are genetically identical and our formative memories are the same. Our additional memories of training and education are specific to our particular duties.”
Adam wondered, “Why were you chosen to be the commanding general?”
“It was the will of the Unheard Whisper.”
“Why? Did it matter which one of you he chose?”
The woman pouted. She explained, “The tenders of the Harvest ask and are answered.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“The Priestesses who tend the Harvest see our colors and brightness and hear our names. They assign us our duties accordingly.”
“You’re grown like crops by your own sisters.”
The Concubine mentioned, “Before the Harvests we were made from the dust and water of sacrifices.”
Adam sickened at the thought of “sacrifices” because he knew they were the mass murder of innocent people. The Concubines of the Great Shadow were such a paradox: beautiful and admirable yet ghoulish and grim. The girls were not malicious yet they were fully capable of committing atrocity. They were intelligent and educated yet mindless and foolish. “Of all the strange things I have ever encountered, you girls are the strangest of them all.”
Drusilla asked, clearly offended, “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s true.”
“How can you speak the truth about something you don’t understand?”
“That’s my point: you’re human and I don’t understand you.”
The Concubine accused, “Perhaps your culture is too primitive for you to have an adequate basis of comparison.”
Adam laughed. Drusilla scowled. The man told the woman, “I know the bite of insecurity when I hear it. I’m starting to understand you, after all.”
“You know nothing.”
“Yeah, that’s what people keep telling me.”
Zombie Girls in Blue sat at consoles and monitors. The goggles and elastic hoods of their skimpy uniforms were already cleanly removed as if never part of the garment. The bald, yellow “women” with soulless black eyes were as diligent and efficient as they were in life. One of the zombies rasped, “We are being scanned.”
The monstrous, amorphous Brendaxa the Insidious looked over the undead woman’s shoulder and recognized, “Mystical clairvoyance.”
“Yes, milady. The source of it is hiding itself well.”
Brendaxa smirked, “The Oracle of Telluria herself is taking a peek.”
“Milady, the signature is emanating from within the Everlasting Storm. Our countermeasures fail to disrupt it.”
“Why would we want to?”
“Milady?”
“From above, she can only see what is unhidden. Let her gaze upon the army that shall devour her world.” Brendaxa stared at and through the ceiling and into the flashing and rumbling storm beyond. The spirit of the Oracle fled from her gaze.
Drusilla awoke that night, surprised to realize she had fallen asleep. Adam was still sleeping.
It was night but a strange, gentle ambiance illuminated the forest without brightening the black, brightly starlit sky. Was the phenomenon emanating from the Tree of the Oracle? If the Concubine had an analyzer she would be walking about scanning everything.
Adam still slept. Drusilla stared at him. The man was boorish but seemed rather noble. He was handsome… in a rugged, barbaric sort of way. He was too blunt to be treacherous. He was too crude to be cunning. She trusted him. The woman smiled. Though the man flustered her with his boisterous buffoonery he was somehow wise in his foolishness. His dim wits were somehow made genius by his bold spirit and pure, heroic heart.
The Concubine was ashamed of herself for admiring her master’s enemy. “I buried his ass,” she remembered Adam telling her. How? How could a mortal man best the Great Seen Unseen?
“I stomped her ass.” Drusilla giggled. The Concubine was ashamed of her mirth… but could not help but be gleefully amused.
Adam slept. Drusilla watched him.
The plant fairies of Telluria slept as groves within sanctuaries. Obscurity and glamour concealed these secreted places. Unseen shields protected them from above and afar. Alas, the eyes of Yississ and her army scoured
the world for these hidden groves… and found them. Shapeless monsters and undead women were mustered to assail and devour the sleeping plant fairies. The victims would be reborn as horrors more terrible than those that assailed them! The ravenous army of Yississ would grow like a strengthening storm… and sweep across the worlds as a tempest of living death. All who lived would perish.
Adam and Drusilla were enjoying breakfast together… when the leaves of the Tree of the Oracle rustled. The voice of the Oracle cried out, “The life of Telluria shall be made the death of all who live!”
“Calm down,” Adam urged. “Tell us what you mean and we’ll do something about it.”
“My king, the demon Yississ means to find my people! Her will shall devour them into monsters worse than those she already commands! Our living dead shall become the death of all races!”
“How?”
“She seeks and shall find the sanctuaries!”
Drusilla understood, “The enemy grows its ranks by repurposing the bodies and materiel of its opposition. They turn victims into zombies and use resources to grow more polymorphs. Useful experts are converted into polymorphs. The partially material physiology of plant fairies could prove ideal for the production of new strains of monster.”
The Oracle confirmed, “It is as our friend Drusilla tells us but it is worse than either of you comprehend. Drusilla, your undead sisters are as wise as they were in life but darkly wiser: Yississ has endowed them with knowledge unsound for human minds. They are putting this forbidden insight to terrible use.”
Drusilla hesitated… before confiding, “Before her disappearance, Mistress Umbra commanded us to locate the sanctuaries. We discovered a way to do so by calibrating our scans to detect the faint mystical resonance of the protective enchantments. My sisters co-opted by Yississ have this knowledge and have equipped themselves with the means to utilize it.”
The Tree of the Oracle shrank and softened… until a “woman” who’s voluptuous nudity was greenish white. Her eyes and nipples were green. Her “hair” was long strands of green leaves. She pulled her feet out of the soil and approached Drusilla, saying unto her, “Woman of the Great Seen Unseen, for love of my people I ask you to do what shall save your own. For the love of all people I ask of you what only you and your sisters can accomplish: protect the sanctuaries! The death of my race shall be the death of all races. Save us all. Oh, please, I beg you, save us all.”
Portals opened throughout Telluria. Throngs of undead women supplemented by swarms of aircraft and columns of legged vehicles poured through. The guns of the living dead Scouts and Sentinels were the standard plasma small arms of the Virgin Army. The entomopters and bipedal battle tanks, however, had been fused with their Jockey operators into monstrous cyborgs: once sleek technology manned by living humans, they were now abominations of metal and flesh. The weapons of these mechanical monsters were changed into magical artifices that cast continuous wave bolts or pulses that induced neural shock. Shapeless entities of unnatural flesh followed the waves of undead women and cyborg monsters.
The horde of living death and amorphous monstrosities was suddenly showered with caseless rockets and blasted by plasma cannons! Bipedal main battle tanks charged, followed by throngs of Concubine Sentinels. Entomopters buzzed and zigzagged overheard. Battle raged all across planet Telluria.
Lieutenant General Yazmin reported, “The enemy is pressing into the fray at all locations. They are determined to take the sanctuaries.”
Drusilla and her officers were standing around the holographic globe and its surrounding, supplementary maps. They were busy, as were the junior Priestesses and many Keepers behind them. Adam observed but remained silent and out of the way, mindful not to be distracting or intrusive. He watched as the indicators on the globe and maps blinked and moved as they were updated.
Drusilla barked, “I want bombers pummeling that heavy concentration in Region 31.”
“Yes, ma’am,” a lieutenant general responded.
“Reinforce Region 29 immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am,” a different lieutenant general responded. “Three legions are already awaiting portals to do so.”
The Virgin Soldiers were swift and bustling but all of them amazingly calm. They were all so clear in what they uttered and so precise in their responses. “You girls are amazing,” the man admired them. Though mortal and only human, the women were diligent and unflinching. Yes, they were girls, but they were warriors when the need arose.
The battles raged. Burning entomopters dropped out of the sky. Legged vehicles were zapped by continuous wave bolts and either collapsed or erupted into flaming chunks. Concubine Sentinels winced and their throngs withered. Others were snatched and drank dry of blood. Regardless, the women of the Great Seen Unseen kept coming. Their Virgin Army kept fighting.
Hours passed. Drusilla was sent away by her officers and accompanied by Adam. The woman brought the man to the privacy of a room with windows for a wall. Couches, cushions and low tables were the furniture of this comfortable chamber. Drusilla seemed oblivious to all of it. Adam worried, “Are you all right?”
“No. My forces are locked in a war of attrition and reinforcements are uncertain.”
“Your homeworld won’t send more troops?”
“Adam, without our master, mine is the last Harvest of my people!” The man wished he had kept his mouth shut. The woman assured, “I shall request reinforcements from Central Command. Unfortunately, it will be another month before I can do so.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll be a month before we’ve plotted coordinates to open a portal to Golgoth.”
“You can’t hurry that up?”
Drusilla laughed. “Adam, do you know nothing of interstellar shifting?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then how did you get to this planet?”
“I’m not entirely sure because I didn’t understand when the Oracle told me.”
Drusilla was incredulous. How did this fool outmaneuver her forces so readily? How did he find a way to overcome an intellect beyond mortal ken? How was he smart enough to best Mistress Umbra? Was the Oracle the secret to Adam’s wisdom? If so, why was Adam king? Drusilla considered: was the Oracle the true ruler of Telluria and Adam merely a figurehead? The man was grinning like an oaf. Was he an oaf? Something about the Adam was somehow inspiring. Something about his stupidity was somehow smart. No, Adam was not a figurehead. Yes, he was a fool but he was… so much more.
Adam told Drusilla, “As King of Telluria, I thank you and your sisters for doing this.”
“Adam, we are doing our duty. For strategic reasons in our own interest we must deny the enemy your civilian population.”
“I know. Thanks anyway.”
Adam stood. Drusilla asked, “Where are you going?”
“My troops are just outside. We’re going to go somewhere and have some fun.”
“What do you mean?”
The man grinned, “I have the best army in the world. We’re going to prove it.”
A wavering bolt streamed into a bipedal main battle tank, blasting the vehicle into a staggering, flaming wreck! The legged machine collapsed and burned. An electrical hum sounded and a throng of Concubine Sentinels winced, convulsed and dropped en masse. The thing that had killed both machine and women was itself both machine and women. The deadly monster was a bipedal main battle tank writhing with tentacles.
What was once a Concubine Jockey was now an amorphous mass fused to the turret and modified weapons of what was once a fighting vehicle in the service of the Virgin Army. The naked, shapeless flesh still had a human head and a healthy human complexion but such was all that remained human of its aspect. Its black, soulless eyes gazed upon the burning wreck sprawled at the feet of the machine that was now entirely part of her. The face beheld the many Girls in Red littering the forest floor beyond.
The monstrous cyborg turned its head to face the ranks of yellow zombies behind her. The undead Conc
ubine Sentinels just stood there, impassively awaiting orders. The cyborg laughed at the undead women, accusing them in a raspy voice, “You are as useless in death as you were in life. I shall delight in sacrificing you should the need ever arise.” The zombies just stood there, indifferent to all but what was expected of them. The cyborg turned its human head back around and stomped onward. “Come,” she beckoned for the zombie foot soldiers to follow.
The forces of Yississ were taking Region 29. Even when the Concubines reinforced their resistance with three legions the polymorphs, cyborgs and zombies could not be stopped.
The cyborg battle tanks of Yississ stomped through the forest followed by throngs of zombie Sentinels and slithering broods of polymorphic Blood Drinkers. The cyborg entomopters overhead buzzed and zigzagged about, seeking and destroying the scattered remnants of Virgin
Soldiers.
The undead Concubine Priestess who was now the polymorphic monster Abigailix the Fierce commanded the forces taking Region 29. She reported to Brendaxa the Insidious, “The sanctuary of Region 29 is ours for the taking.”
“Well done, my sister. Your victory shall double our strength.”
Abigailix left the safety of her self-shifting command fortress so as to join her troops in the taking of the sanctuary… when an arrow with a glowing tip suddenly zipped into her and blasted her into gory chunks! Vines dropped from above and whipped around the startled zombie Sentinels! A very big, very hairy humanoid wielding a stormgun blazed streams of plasma bolts into the crawling masses of amorphous tentacles!
Adam darted from tree to tree, taking potshots with his minicarbine all the while. The human head of a cyborg battle tank spotted him and the vehicle of flesh and metal stomped towards him. Adam took cover, calling out, “Conjure, I need your help really quick!” A wavering bolt streamed out of what was once a plasma cannon, licking through bushes and trees as it sought the scurrying man. “Conjure!”
Conjure the half-goblin darted between the legs of the cyborg battle tank and slapped something glowing onto its hull. He dove away and snapped his fingers: There was a boom and the monstrous vehicle collapsed as a flaming, gory wreck!
Zombies, cyborgs and polymorphs converged on the Army of Four. The defenders of Telluria fought back, blasting and slaughtering with fierce, uncanny prowess!
Lieutenant General Yazmin was monitoring the situation in Region 29. She was staring at a holographic map of the area when she realized aloud, “The enemy has stopped advancing on the sanctuary.” Yazmin looked up at Drusilla, reporting, “The enemy in Region 29 is converging on a location other than the sanctuary.”
Drusilla came over and studied the map and its indicators. “Adam,” she believed. “The enemy is converging on the Army of Four.”
Yazmin mentioned, “Adam came in here and bothered to ask which region needed the most help. I told him Region 29 but explained that it was proving indefensible.”
Drusilla smiled. She reminded, “We have fought Adam before. Did he best us by being wise?” The general shouted, for her lieutenant generals to hear, “I want everything we can spare to converge on Region 29 immediately!” Drusilla commanded Olga specifically, “Muster and deploy the 3rd, 4th and 5th Legions to Region 29 immediately.”
“They protect this very Temple!”
“No, they surround the Temple. They shall protect it by fighting in Region 29.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Olga swiftly and efficiently carried out her orders.
Swarms of entomopters and throngs of legged battle tanks, Scouts and Sentinels poured into Region 29 and immediately engaged the horde of cyborgs, zombies and polymorphs. Adam cheered as caseless rockets rained into the forest and blasted the monsters converging on him and his three soldiers. Flora grabbed him and pulled him away, shouting over the shrieks and explosions, “We must flee or perish with our enemies!” Hairy suddenly plucked Adam up and draped him over a shoulder and ran.
A crystal ball with an opaque core flashed from within and became a globe of Telluria. Yississ watched as her army battled the armies of Adam and the Concubines. The demon cackled. Brendaxa was in the chamber. She asked, “What amuses you, milady?”
“Brendaxa, my soldier, are you not having fun?”
“Milady?”
“Waging war is so much fun.”
“Milady, we don’t have the numbers to endure this operation. May we withdraw?”
“Not yet. Several groves of plant fairies are within our grasp. We must snatch them first.”
“Yes, milady.”
Yississ turned away from the crystal ball. “Brendaxa, my dear, why do you worry? Do you not see that all is in our favor?”
“No, milady. Our situation is proving costly and precarious. The Virgin Army outnumbers us ten-to-one. The strategic air forces remain entirely theirs. The Army of Four is against us.”
Yississ loomed over Brendaxa. The demon’s rotting hands caressed the polymorphic monster’s bald head. Yississ gazed into the blackness that were the eyes of what was once human. “Brendaxa, my child, all is well. Yes, the Virgin Army outnumbers us but its numbers replenish our own and cannot be replenished. Because of your ingenious weapon, the strategic air forces cannot destroy our abode. As for the Army of Four: I await it. The body of Flora, greatest of the carnivorous plant fairies, shall come to me and become my own. We grow stronger. I shall be born anew and immortal. Brendaxa, my child, rejoice, for we are winning.”